I’m going to do something I have never done before today; write a letter to the President of Walmart about my last (and I mean last because I will never again grace their doors) experience at his store. I’m not naive enough to think it will reach him, so I’m sharing it with you.

…….Dear Mr. McMillon:

I write to share with you my latest and last experience at your megastore. I could wax eloquent about how you are losing a valued customer, but that would be a lie. I will do everything in my power to avoid your store although it is chock full of stuff I didn’t know I needed it until I spied it on a rack. Lazy person that I am, I am not a fan of walking far distances for a quart of milk. Rather than excite me your multitude of choices confuse and intimidate me and I swear there is a secret shopper throwing things in my cart when my back is turned. Nope, give me a small local store any day where everybody knows my name.

But, I ran out of ink for my printer on a morning I had to mail copies to my accountant. My choices were to go to Steubenville or Robinson Township. Less than ten miles away you won. My plan was to go straight to the back of the store, purchase the ink and hightail it home to print my copies. I did just that. If only I hadn’t remembered I was out of pop so I picked up Coke and Ginger Ale. As I headed towards the checkout, I spied two really cute throw pillows on a display. I grabbed them. Easy, peasy, right?

Not so. One checkout line with a live person was open and the line to it was filled with people who were back to supplies, clothes and enough food to feed a militia. I do not self check out. It is taking someone’s job. It dehumanizes the workplace. Mostly, it is hard and I always screw it up, but time was not on my side so that’s what I did.

I scanned my items and as I was leaving a clerk said “don’t forget your receipt,” I grabbed the receipt laying on the self check out and headed out. Except, I couldn’t get out of the store.

Mr. McMillon, you didn’t tell customers that you had changed the job description of Walmart greeter to Walmart inquisitor because where that pleasant smiling face used to say “Welcome to Walmart” stood an employee waiting to cause me humiliation and grief and maybe head to confession.

I flashed my ink receipt at her and the other receipt for the four items. She looked at me as if she had discovered a thief in a long dress and tennis shoes (I was in disguise and had opted not to wear pajamas) and said “there’s no coke on this receipt.” I gave her a blank stare. I bought coke; it’s a receipt; what’s the problem?” She then compared all four items and found none of them on my receipt. Clearly, I was committing fraud for throw pillows.

We stared each other down until I said “Well, what do we do about this?”

Her employee training obviously had not prepared her for this and she said “Get the right receipt” and then she looked away and checked another customer. I considered making a run for it, but even in tennis shoes I didn’t think I could outrun her. I had paid $37.34 in cash so opening my wallet to show the money was gone was not an option.

(I should mention, that my face was flushed and perspiration was running down the back of my neck.)

I looked at the long line of checkout counters and began the walk of shame to the other end of the store where I had no hope of finding the right receipt. Upon arrival I realized all self checkouts look alike and the employee that had reminded not to forget my receipt was no where to be found. I described her to another employee and was told she had gone to the bathroom. I stationed myself outside the bathroom (I had sunk this far, why not?) and when she came out pounced on her. She remembered me and she had seen the receipt that popped out as I departed with my purchases. Great. Could I have it?

“I threw it in the garbage,” she said. The mother in me wanted to shout “What were you thinking. Didn’t you know what they would do to me without it,” but I didn’t cause my new best friend had the solution. We would dumpster dive for it. Sure nuff, we approached on of those big blue containers and began looking as customers checked out and looked at us. Finally, she said “did you get two throw pillows.”

Words cannot express my joy and my anticipatory relief at being sprung from this facility.

“Yes, that’s me,” I snatched the receipt from her hand without a thank you and did the march of the righteous back through the store. I handed the receipt to the employee who checked it against my buggy as if I had added a candy bar on my way back. Then she nodded. No words. No, “sorry for your inconvenience or misunderstanding.” She just nodded and I departed never to return to this place that defies every element of customer service.